Stiff Suits and Prayers


He came in a stiff black suit. Sipping my coffee, I watched him as he scanned the room for me.He looked really out of place as little kids with syrup dripping from their chins and old people with Velcro shoes and canes walked past him. He looked serious as he firmly held his briefcase in his left hand. We made eye contact as he walked over in my direction.

“You must be Coran Stevens?” I nodded.

“Steven Spencer. Nice to meet you.” I stood up and shook his hand. He didn’t smile. No warmth, no comfort. I wasn’t surprised though; lawyers weren’t the nicest people in the world. Sitting down, he ordered a coffee and a toasted bagel with cream cheese as if it were programmed. The waitress smiled as she quickly scribbled in her notebook.

“Anything for you Miss?” The waitress chirped in my direction

“No thanks.”

“Okay, thank you,” she grabbed the rest of the menus that were lying on the clean table and walked quickly away.

“So let’s get down to business, shall we?” I nodded as he lifted the shiny black leather briefcase onto the crisp white table. I crossed my legs tight as he pulled packet after packet of paper out of the briefcase.

“You need Doug to sign this line, this line, and this line before anything can be finalized,” He commanded as I followed his finger jump to each page. “You have children right?” I nodded. “If you want full custody of them you must read and sign the next three pages.”I was overwhelmed as he shuffled through the papers quickly. I sipped my coffee as he continued to go on about the legal things that I didn’t understand. His phone started to ring in the pocket of his jacket interrupting him in mid sentence.

“If you will excuse me” He said, as he slid out of the booth and walked over to the door. Looking down at the many papers it was as if all the letters were mushed together making it hard for me to read. I could over hear him laughing, it was the most emotion that I had seen all morning come out of him. But he didn’t have to be comforting,  He didn’t even have to be nice. He wasn’t my therapist. I ran my fingers through my long braided hair and sighed.

“More Coffee, Miss?” The waitress asked walking in my direction. I nodded as she poured more piping hot coffee into my cold cup.

“Sorry about that, business call” He said as he walked back to our booth. I grinned, looking back down my future, these papers. I rested my head on my hand as I felt the color melt out of my face.

“You sure you want to do this?” He asked, looking almost normal.

“There is no other choice Mr. Spencer. If there was I would be doing it.” He nodded looking down at the papers.

“Then all that’s left to do is for you and Doug to sign the papers than we will have a meeting to discuss what’s next from here.”

“Thank you Mr. Spencer. I will keep in touch I said grabbing my purse as I slid out of the booth.

“Do you have any questions?” He asked as he sipped his coffee not moving from his seat. I grabbed the three piles of papers off the table and smiled.

“No I think I’m okay. Thank you.” I said pulling a few dollars out of my pocket and placing them on the table.

“Nice meeting you Miss Stevens. We will figure everything out, don’t worry.”

“You too, Mr. Spencer. Thank you again.” I waved as I walked out the door. As I got in my car, I wondered how many heartbroken women Mr. Spencer sees a day and if they always meet at that diner. I wondered if Mr. Spencer had a wonderful wife and tried to make his marriage successful. I wonder if Mr. Spencer would make everything wonderful for me.

Inspired by two people at the diner at 10 o’clock at night. For my creative writing class… I don’t know how I feel about it.



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